There is a pretty little stream defining the exact bottom of the valley in which I’m currently grazing my cattle. As is the case in much of our region, the water is running away from old strip mining operations which ceased decades ago.
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“Here we go again,” I thought. “Some faux do-gooder program like a cereal box that saves trees or a laundry detergent that saves the ocean.” Bah, humbug.
Then I researched the project and decided to stick the proverbial foot in my perpetually pessimistic mouth.
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